running
by enparis
Summary: alternate universe eleven/amy. time lady!amy/human!doctor. "consequences don't even come into it. she can run from those. but now, standing only feet apart, she can't run from him."


**A/N: so, at some point, i am going to do a MUCH longer version of this. i have it all planned out and about 1000 words written. but i'm honestly not sure when it will be completed as i'm planning to do nanowrimo first. ANYWHO. **

**the idea behind this universe is basically this: amy is the time lady, the doctor is the human (by the name of john smith. amy keeps her name because time lords/ladies don't have to have titles or whatnot. plus i later explain her name in the longer version although yeah... idk when i'll have that up). anyway they go on these wonderful adventures together, but amy is the more dangerous of the two – she runs and runs and runs from her past. while john is more human and grounds her and saves her. **

**so, i hope you enjoy, i guess! i really appreciate reviews so if you took time to tell me what you thought, it would be fab.**

**disclaimer: psssh. oh, if i owned amy pond~**

They are both breathing heavy, their chests feeling too small and tight to contain all the air that they need. Deep, hungry breaths are taken. He rarely sees her stumble, but in those few seconds her breath shakes and her fingers shake and she seems so much more fragile than he has seen her before. Shaking and breakable. Then the brief moment passes and she bounds up to the console, putting all her weight on the levers that pull down easily; stabbing at the buttons a little too hard. Too hard. Too fast. Too close. They had been too close that time.

He follows her up, a little less gracefully, and tugs down on the red doodahthrusters, so named after a long conversation about what all the different knobs and levers actually did. After much fumbling around they had discovered that the TARDIS got an extra kick from pulling it down and so of course they always made sure it was pulled when they set off. They were all about little kicks and thrills, them.

"That was fun," she says, a little unconvincingly. Her eyes don't meet his, her eyebrows raise a fraction and the corners of her lips quirk upwards in what might look like a smile were she not frowning. Instead her expression is one of denial. He's used to it, of course. She runs. Her legs move forward and her long hair swirls and swishes and her eyes light up and she runs. It's her; it's what she does. And after she runs? Then the same expression settles on her face and she pretends that they didn't nearly lose their lives, or get separated from one another. Because everything is fine if you keep running.

His fingers tense up slightly, and his features shift into an expression that makes it perfectly clear that he doesn't think it was fun. Not all of it. The running, the mysteries, the danger and the thrill; that would never stop being fun. But when he had been faced with the fact that he was going to die and she was going to die and they weren't even going together... There was no bang. No explosion, no world-saving. Just a quick execution on an unfamiliar planet.

Of course Amelia had protested. That was no way for her to go. She deserved planets dying, universes collapsing. The only way that she would ever give into death was if there was a bang involved. She deserved a bang. And when she hadn't got it, she had created one. Somewhere at the heart of the explosion, her hand had found his and they had pulled each other to safety. It was a dual effort; both of them saving one another. But it had been too close for comfort. Too close.

"We nearly died," he says, his voice a little hard. Her ginger hair swishes around before she does, and a fraction of a second her face follows, poking around the console. "Yeah... but we didn't," she says, like explaining it to a child, as if the simple fact that they didn't would make up for everything they had just experienced. Despite the fact that she's centuries older than him, sometimes it's like he's the older one. Because despite the years, she's stubborn and determined not to let her past define her. It's all about now. All about the fun. Consequences don't even come into it. She can run from those. But now, standing only feet apart, she can't run from him.

At this point he knows he should leave it. They nearly died. They didn't. They move on. That was they path they always followed. But sometimes he felt she needed to be reminded of how the universe could spin and the planets could turn and they could run but there would always, always be consequences. She's gotten so used to shrugging things off that she needs somebody to run fast and yet slow her down simultaneously.

He moves to be beside her, his coat swishing around like her hair does. His fingers settle on top of hers and he leans his forehead next to hers, squeezing his eyes shut. "Next time...," he starts, and cuts himself off by pressing a kiss onto her forehead. Her eyes slip down to look at his hand sitting on hers and the corners of her mouth flicker upwards in a proper smile. It's all they need, just that moment. "Yeah," she says softly. She knows. Slow down, girl. You're running too fast.

"Now!" he exclaims, and throws his arms up into the air, grinning madly. His grin is contagious and it spreads and suddenly, without meaning to, she's caught it and the two of them stand there, grinning madly as if they hadn't nearly just died. "Where to next?" he asks, as if he's more than just the companion and can take her anywhere she wants.

He can't take her, they both know that. But the places that she takes him... he makes it all worthwhile. He grounds her and he saves her. The perfect companion.


End file.
